Between Two Ages
by Aisling-Siobhan
Summary: Pet/Casp Imagine if the Kings and Queens of Old had found a way back to Narnia straight after leaving the wardrobe. What will they make of the thousands of strange people washing up on the coast of Cair Paravel, led by Caspian II. AU Full summary inside
1. The New Age

New story

New story. I am so horrible. Why am I starting a new story when I can't bring myself to update The Lambs? Anyway let me know what you think. Leave a review, and if anyone is willing, will you make me a banner please? Caspian 3 and 10 look exactly alike – in case you are wondering.

"Between Two Ages"

**Disclaimer: ** It all belongs to C.S. Lewis and Disney, et all. So don't sue me. I'm just doing this for fun.

**Summary: ** P/C Imagine if the Kings and Queens of Old had found a way back to Narnia straight after leaving the wardrobe. What will they make of the thousands of strange people washing up on the coast of Cair Paravel, led by Caspian II. 1300 years later Peter finds himself back in Narnia face-to-face with another Caspian but not the one he remembers. Could he love this Caspian too or is Narnia far too different to how it once was? Peter's heart is caught between two Ages of Narnia and he isn't sure which one he loves more.

**Warnings: ** Slash. Peter/Caspian X. AU. Peter/Caspian III. Death. Violence. Language. Takes place at the end of the Golden Age, then through to Telmarine Narnia. Book and Movie-mix.

**Rating: ** R/NC-17 SLASH!!

**A/N: ** If they found a way back to Narnia straight after leaving the Wardrobe, they would have been there in time for the Telmarines to arrive. Let's pretend that happened. They will still have to leave for the year (a long way into the story) so we can get to the Peter/Caspian X. It will be Peter/OC for a little while though.

_XXX_

**Words: ** 2,689

**Chapter 1**

**A New Age**

There was a legend in Narnia, as old as you or I, or older still in fact, that boasted that those who captured he elusive White Stag would be granted wishes. It was with that thought in mind that the two Kings and two Queens rode out from Cair Paravel that afternoon. Mr. Tumnus, who was a good deal older than when they had first met him, had arrived at the castle earlier to deliver the good news that the White Stag had been spotted in the Western Woods.

A rather large party accompanied the Kings and Queens. They did not fear that the noise would frighten off the Stag. After all they were only hunting for the fun of it, and the Stag was possibly quite used to large, joyous parties such as theirs chasing him.

The Stag led them on a merry chase until at last all but four horses were too tired to continue on. The guards and the courtiers let the Kings and Queens go on alone. Edmund rode off first. He had always been a little standoffish, but over time he had straightened himself out and he was much like he was before he went off to that horrid boarding school of his. Lucy followed soon after, her long blond hair hung down her back, the wing catching it and throwing it up into the air as she giggled in delight. Susan, with her dark hair and her dark eyes and fair skin, followed the youngest two hastily.

High King Peter turned to his subjects and smiled. "We shan't be too long, I believe." He patted Fledge on the side of the neck. The winged horse snorted at him, but didn't speak. The horse would not be the first to admit defeat. "We both are growing weary of this chase, are we not?"

"Speak for yourself," Fledge muttered mutinously and took off at a gallop, as Peter chuckled from his back, holding on fast to the reins.

The guards and courtiers watched them go, before dismounting and settling down for their return. They had no idea that their Kings and Queens would disappear for three full weeks.

_XXX_

The adults – for they were no longer children – felt as if they were in a dream, or if they were remembering a dream that they had dreamt many years ago.

"Well if this isn't a queer looking tree?" Edmund said as he reached out to run his hand down the iron pole.

"It's a lamppost!" Lucy exclaimed suddenly. "It's not a tree at all."

"Why would someone put a lamppost here? You wouldn't be able to see the light through all of those trees anyway!"

"Honestly Edmund," Susan said, for Peter still hadn't caught them up and she was to be the reasonable one in his absence as she was the second oldest. "That lamppost was obviously here before these trees. For the lamppost is quite old and these trees are relatively new." Edmund made a small humming noise, almost in agreement, as Peter darted out from the trees.

"Have you lost the Stag, fairest siblings?" He slowed Fledge the horse and dismounted.

"Look at this dear brother," Lucy beckoned him over. "Can you not remember something? A land?" She scratched her head in thought before smiling widely. "I remember! Spare 'Oom in the land of War Drobe. Oh Peter, oh brother," she cried holding her hands out pleadingly in front of her chest. "May we go back, just for a short visit?"

Peter looked at the others, but they were all watching him, waiting for his answer. "I don't see why not Lucy. But not for long, after all the courtiers are waiting for us." He tried to be stern with her but she smiled at him so charmingly that he couldn't help himself. He grinned widely and clutched her to his chest in a fierce hug. When he released her he turned to Fledge. "Wait here for us would you, my friend?" The free and Talking horse bowed slightly and nodded his head. But Fledge kept his silence for he was against what they planned to do but he didn't want to upset Lucy by voicing his opinions to Peter while she was still there.

They walked twenty paces before they began to remember things that they had soon forgotten, having been so enchanted by their life in Narnia. Twenty paces more led them into a dark enclosed area of the forest, but none of them were scared. It seemed right, this placed seemed to be calling to them, and so they continued to walk forward. But soon it was not leaves and branches brushing their faces but rather soft furs and wool and cotton. Peter pushed something away from his face, and instead of reaching through what should have been a branch into thin air, his hand hit something hard and solid.

The sidewall of the wardrobe.

In a matter of seconds, before Peter, who was at the back and the first to realize what was happening, could warn them, all four had come tumbling out of the wardrobe. They landed in a pile on the floor just as the door to the spare room opened. Lucy looked around frantically. "Mr Tumnus!" She cried. The thought of losing her best and closest friend terrified her. She jumped back into the wardrobe but she met the solid oak of its back wall, and curled in on herself as she cried, hidden from the others by the many coats.

Peter sank to his knees, his mouth open as he tried to control his breathing. A part of him just wanted to stop breathing all together. He could hear Lucy's cries and he could see the horror and desolation on Susan and Edmund's faces and it was his fault. It was his answer that had ultimately brought them home. He could have said no and they would have remained in Narnia. But he had agreed.

By what folly had he agreed?

He curled his fingers into fists and began to punch the floor. In the threshold of the room Professor Digory Kirke watched the children mourn and he knew how they felt. Before they could notice him, he hurried back to his study and took something out of a drawer. Many years ago, his friend Polly had helped him bury the contents of this tin box in the back garden around a very special tree. But when the tree had blown down, Digory made this wardrobe out of its wood. And he had dug up the rings and kept them safe in this little tin box ever since.

"Why do you weep so, child?" He asked as he entered the room for a second time. Susan and Edmund were holding Peter, and each of them were crying silently, but the Professor could only see Peter's tears because Peter was the only one facing him.

"You wouldn't understand." Edmund sneered. Almost immediately he had gone from the wonderful grown-up he was to the spiteful, hate-filled child he once was. Peter squeezed him tightly and Edmund cried harder. "Sorry," he sniffled.

"No need to cry, children," the Professor said realizing they were all crying. "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia." They stopped crying long enough to stare at him in shock. Lucy even came out of the wardrobe. "Oh, oh, no, you won't be getting back that way! You'll have to wait until She calls you back, Narnia I mean. But there are ways to cheat." He gave Peter a sly little grin and Peter wiped away his tears and stood up.

"How so, Sir?" He said. He only remembered to add the 'sir' part when he realized he had to look up to the Professor: he was no longer an adult.

He held out the tin box and Peter hesitantly took it. He didn't open the box, instead he examined the outside. The box was tin, and old and dirty. But it was engraved with the most beautiful designs of fauns and centaurs and dryads and sprites and mermaids and, there on the very lid, was Cair Paravel of the four thrones. Peter's true home.

He opened the lid and inside he found four sets of rings. "It was all I could find, years ago." The Professor said. His uncle had either used the others he made, or lost them or destroyed them.

There were four green rings and four yellow rings. "What are they?" Edmund asked looking over Peter's shoulder.

"Rings."

"Well I can see that!" He said rather angrily.

"They were made from magic, from the soil, dust and sand of the place called the Wood Between the Worlds. The Yellow ones will bring you to the Wood, the Green ones will bring you anywhere else. The Yellow ones, remember, will only take you to the woods. You will need both to come and go, so don't lose them. Now, you don't necessarily need to wear them but make sure you touch someone who is wearing them. Bare skin only, mind you." He warned. "And don't forget to mark the puddle you come out of." He left the room at that.

"What say you?" Peter asked them. They were all looking at him again, waiting for his answer.

"I want to go home," Lucy said at last.

"Hold on to me," Peter said. They all took hold of him, gripping him tightly, as he reached into the open tin box and slipped a Yellow ring on his finger. It suddenly seemed as if the air was heavier, or packed in tighter around them. They almost struggled before they each thought of what might happen if they were to accidentally let Peter go. So instead they focused their energy into holding onto their brother tighter.

When they let go, they were knee deep in a lock of water. "Is that what he called a puddle?" Susan asked incredulously. It looked as if it would get even deeper if they waded out. Instead, they headed towards the shore. The moment their feet touched the soil they felt as if they belonged there. It was as if they hadn't just arrived but if they had lived their all their lives. They wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest for a time. It didn't matter how long, because this was where they thought they belonged.

Peter looked down at the strange tin box in his hand and frowned. Suddenly he snapped out of the daze he was in, and shook his siblings in turn, waking them also. "We have to mark this one."

Susan pulled a paperweight from her pocket, and ignoring the strange looks she got, she laid it down at the base of the closest tree. Edmund unlaced one of his shoes and tied it around the base of the tree, just to be safe.

"Now which one is Narnia?" He asked, looking through the trees at the three other lakes he could spot.

"We'll know," Lucy told them confidently, "She'll call to us."

And she did call them. When they were close enough they felt explicably drawn to one puddle in particular and they knew; this one would lead them home. They took hold of Peter again, and he slipped off the Yellow ring. "Ready?" They squeezed him in response. He slipped his finger into the Green ring and suddenly it felt as if they had all slipped and fallen under the surface of the water. But they did not get wet and they did not drown, so they didn't worry overly.

When they arrived at Narnia they were still in the Western Woods, not a lake, and they were sitting on the floor beside the lamppost. "Oh look!" Lucy exclaimed and rushed over to the pile of clothing and swords and bows and shoes that lay upon the floor. "Our things are still here."

"Those clothes will be too big for us now." Peter said as he picked through them. He removed the weapons and the cloaks and the shoes, if they still fitted, and handed Lucy her cordial. But he left the rest of the clothing. It would be much to heavy to carry, and it looked as if Fledge had not waited like he was asked. "Let's go. It'll take days to walk back to Cair Paravel."

They had been walking for three days, with short rests, before they came into sight of their home. Firstly, they spotted the coast. The water stretched out for miles to the North before going over a waterfall. Peter and a few others thought that maybe the waterfall led to another world – Peter believed it more now that he knew the Western Wood led to England. Lucy rushed forward to dip her feet into the sea but stopped short at the sight in front of her.

Two large war ships, Spanish Galleons to be exact, were moored off the beach a little further down from them. Thousands of people stood around, tents were pitched and small fires were burning. "What-?" She began, but Edmund put his hand over her mouth and dragged her out of sight.

"We don't know if they're friendly. We better get up to Cair Paravel sharpish." They looked up at the cliff upon which their castle sat. Many courtiers were looking down out of the windows and over the balconies trying to understand the presence of these mysterious strange humans. For they were humans only aboard those ships.

Peter thought it was all very strange. In the fifteen years he had been High King he had learnt that Narnia was made up of animals and beasts, with human rulers. The other nearest humans were in Archenland, to the East or to the South across the desert in Tashbaan. These strangers looked like members of either region, which was worrying. The only possible explanation, Peter could think of, was that these strangers were from Peter's real country and they had somehow stumbled into this world, into Narnia. And they seemed ready to stay here.

"We'll see about that," Peter murmured as he followed his siblings up through the forest, up the side of the cliff, to the entrance of Cair Paravel.

One boy, about fifteen or sixteen, watched the four leave. He smiled slightly as he stared after the blond haired male. Caspian the Third thought he was rather beautiful, and he wondered if the High King would ever agree to meet with his father so that he may go up into that castle and catch another glimpse of the fair-haired beautiful boy.

They were met at the gates by a handful of worried guards, all of whom had despaired upon their Kings and Queens ever returning to them. "We're back now," Lucy consoled Mr. Tumnus who was still much older than when Lucy first met him.

Every person in the courtroom cheered as the Kings and Queens sat down upon their thrones. "It is a miracle from Aslan!" Mr. Beaver said.

Sallowpad the raven flapped his wings in delight. "Now you may rule over Narnia for another fifteen years, O High King!"

"O Magnificent King." Someone else cried.

"O Valiant Queen."

"Long live Gentle Queen Susan!" Another cheered.

"All hail Edmund the Just!" Shouted a handful of others.

The noise and excitement was so loud that the Telmarine's on the coast could hear them celebrating. Caspian the Third walked back to his father, smiling softly to himself at the thoughts of seeing the blond boy some day soon.

"What do you grin so for?" Captain Caspian the Second asked.

He lied: "I was wondering what they were so happy about."

Father and son looked up at the castle of the four thrones. One frowned and the other smiled. "So do I." He said, rubbing his fingers over his short, pointed beard. If his son had noticed the look Caspian the Second was sending at the castle, he wouldn't have liked it.

So began a new Age in the long happy land of Narnia.

**XXX**

There is the first chapter. Let me know if you like it, and I'll continue. If not, then I'll pass it off as a one-shot.

Bare in mind, that there will be Peter/Caspian 3rd, before Peter ends up back in Finchley. And then there will be a AU 4th book (Prince Caspian) during which it will be Peter/Caspian 10th. Keep that in mind.


	2. Foreign Visitors

Hey

Hey! I'm rather disappointed with FFNet. Usually I only get a few reviews at LJ (this time I got quite a few) and loads on FFNet but I only got 2 this time. Which is annoying as I know for a fact that almost 15 people Alerted this story.

So, regardless of the fact that I have several chapters planned out, I won't post again until I get at least 5 more reviews (and that's me being nice).

Thanks to everyone on AFF and LJ who reviewed.

**Words: **3,360

**Chapter 2**

**Foreign Visitors**

When the excitement of their return had died down, Peter called them all to order. With the grace known only to those who have reigned fairly and wisely for many years Peter ascended the platform and sat down in his throne. Susan followed his lead and sat to his left, while Edmund sat to his right. Lucy took the last throne, the one beside Susan, and once all four were sitting down a hush fell over the hall.

"We will celebrate our return afterwards," Peter promised his disappointed looking subjects. "But now, to more important matters. How long have we been absent?"

"Three week, O good my King."

"Goodness gracious," Susan breathed, her hand pressed to her chest. "We were gone barely minutes."

"You know time works differently here, Sister mine." Edmund shot her a soft smile and Susan let out a deep breath.

"I apologize. Continue please," she said this last bit to Peter.

The blond nodded. His head suddenly felt heavier as Mr Tumnus came up behind him and laid his crown upon his head. He shot a smile over his shoulder and watched for a second, as Susan was re-crowned. "When did the strangers arrive?"

"They call themselves Telmarine's, from Telmorra, but I have heard of no such place." Oreius the Centaur was their most trusted advisor as well as their army General. "Perhaps they are from your world?"

"They look Spanish." Lucy whispered at Susan.

"I've never heard of Telmorra before, what about you Peter?"

The blond shook his head at his brother and frowned. "It is possible that they are from a world that is neither mine nor ours, Oreius." He rubbed his chin and turned his head so he was able to catch a glimpse of these Telmarine's out of the window. "Where did they come from?"

"You have been gone for three weeks Sire. Two weeks after your disappearance, we woke one morning and those two battle ships were present. By noon those tents were pitched and we had men banging down the doors to Cair Paravel, demanding an audience with a King we could not give them. There have been two other messengers this week, O good my High King." The centaur dipped into a short bow before rising and moving to look out of the window. His body blocked Peter's view, so the blond turned his head back to the assembled guests.

"Has there been any trouble in our absence?" Susan asked as she reached out to squeeze Peter's hand.

"The giants from the North attempted another rebellion. But it was easily squashed."

"How so?" Peter frowned, and then steepled his fingers beneath his chin. He suddenly realized he no longer had stubble, and that made him frown. He was, once more, a child.

"They believed the Telmarine's to be Narnian armies, readied to attack them." Shallowpad croaked, flapping his wings. "I myself went to explain to them that these strangers were not here by your accord, most Magnificent King."

Peter nodded slowly, trying to let the information sink in. "But the Telmarine's have not attacked?"

"They hunt, as we do," one of the Leopards said.

"They attempted to eat one of us Talking beasts, but I believe we frightened them off. They only hunt dumb animals now." It was a dog that spoke this time.

"I do not believe our King has any more questions at present." Susan clapped her hands and those standing over to the corner of the room beside the doors suddenly picked up their instruments and began to play music. "We have returned." She smiled.

"PRAISE ASLAN!" The crowd roared.

Fauns pulled flutes from their fur or their clothing and began to play along with the band. Dryads and Nymphs started to dance. Those that could cook immediately made their ways to the kitchens to prepare food for the celebration. Others dimmed the lights and began trying to make decorations. Lucy had a jolly good time helping a dwarf try to attach banners to the ceiling, for both were rather short people and neither could reach even standing upon one another's shoulders. In the end, the banners were pinned to the wall, around waist height. But no one found fault with it, for they were all happy creatures this day.

Or at least they were until a furious banging came from the direction of the Front Gate.

Peter could hear the guard shouting as he made his way from the Throne Room to the Gate. He pulled open the small, human sized, door, rather than opening the entire Gate. "Is there a problem, O good my Guard?" He asked, frowning at the second man.

He was dressed in rags, all grey in colour, but he had a large red sash tied around his waist and knee high black leather boots. He also had an eye patch on. Peter frowned at him, for he recognized the state of dress but he couldn't quite place where he had seen clothing of that sort before.

'_I'm sure the Spanish don't dress like that'_, he thought idly to himself as he waited for an answer.

"No problem, O Majesty. This man just wanted to speak with you. But I have informed him that you are in the midst of a celebration."

"Nonsense." Peter held his hand out to the other man. The man shook it, but he didn't seem to take Peter very seriously. "If you are sent by the leader of those mighty sea vessels then, please, tell him to come to us. We wish to speak with him also."

"Sir," the man said and nodded his head. "I shall inform our King at once. Expect him within a day." He turned, without bowing or bidding Peter a good day, and ran down the path towards the coast.

Once he was out of sight, the Guard turned to Peter with a furious look upon his face. "How dare that- that- that cretin not bow before the High King?"

Peter merely smiled and laid his hand on the Guards arm until the man had calmed down. Most of the guards were slaves bought or rescued in Tashbaan or those that had travelled up from Archenland to Narnia and had found employment in the army.

"I believe he does not think me a King. Perhaps," Peter spoke as he led the guard back inside. "Perhaps he believes me the son of a King, or a well dressed servant." For one must remember that Peter was not dressed like a King of anyplace, let along Narnia. He and his siblings were once again wearing the clothing they had worn as the first entered the wardrobe.

The guard noticed Peter picking at his shirt and smirked. "Then we shall have to dress you, my King, before they arrive."

"Yes," Peter said, "we shall. You never can make a first impression twice, after all."

_XXX_

That messenger was the fourth in one week and Captain Caspian the Second (who now thought of himself as King) was elated to finally be allowed an audience with the ruler of this barbarian land.

"Who agreed?" Caspian the Second said.

Caspian the Third and his brother Calpian the First were standing beside their father, listening to him converse with the messenger. Now, bare in mind that at one point in this story we will encounter a boy named Caspian the Tenth, and so that is quite a few Caspian's to call by name and number. Perhaps it would be easier to simply call them by their number, as if the number was truly their name? But that would be not at all respectful. Fortunately for us, Caspian the Second was one of the few with a middle name. That name was, believe it or not, Miraz. So from henceforth, unless a person is directly addressing Caspian the Second, we shall call him Miraz, just to save on confusion.

The messenger frowned, "a child, my King. He was about Caspian's age, no older and dressed in clothing similar to our own."

"Perchance a servant, then," suggested Miraz, for he didn't think any King would be seen dressed in less than the best.

"Father," Caspian asked softly, loath to interrupt but he desperately wanted to know. "Are you going to meet with this King?"

"Yes."

"May I come with you?" Calpian was the one to shout this out.

Miraz smiled at both of his sons and nodded, "you both will come. As will our guards." The messenger clicked his fingers and five men walked towards them. Each was of a sturdy build, muscled and rather fierce looking. They would do well to protect the King and his heirs. "We shall go now. Surely they will not expect us so soon, and I would like to take them by surprise."

Caspian didn't question why his father wanted to surprise these Narnians. Instead, he was wondering whether the boy who answered the door was blond with blue eyes, and still as beautiful as he remembered?

_XXX_

The guard who had been at the door with Peter earlier was named Damne. He was the same guard who opened the door for Miraz and his sons, and for the following five Telmarines. With a curt bow, the Archenlandian man led them inside, and towards the Throne Room where the Kings and Queens were waiting. They had changed their clothing now and had their hair done, as the others had partied.

Miraz looked around the room, taking in the banners with distain and frowning at the noise the band were producing. For Telmarines had not the same musical taste as Narnians and so Miraz thought the music rather poorly. Caspian the Third however thought everything he could see was fabulous and beautiful.

None more so beautiful than the blond boy he had spotted in the woods. For there he was, right in front of him, a feast for Caspian's hungry eyes. And, what was this? The boy was sat upon the throne?

Miraz seemed to notice the seating arrangements at the same moment his son did, for his eyes widened and his lips drew into a tight line. "King Peter I presume?"

"Good wishes, O good my sir." Peter said, bowing his head slightly in front of his guests. "I am High King Peter. These are my siblings, Queen Susan and Lucy and King Edmund."

"Good wishes," the other three said simultaneously.

"Please," Peter waved a hand as he spoke. Three Fauns ran forward, bearing chairs, and placed them on the ground behind Miraz and his sons. "Take a seat." Caspian was the first to sit down and when nothing bad happened to him, his brother followed suit. Miraz looked around the room, sneered at quite a few of the Narnians and swept his cloak beneath him; so when he sat, he sat upon the thick fabric rather than on the chair itself. A few of the Narnians began whispering at his actions, for it was considered quite an insult to turn ones nose up at another's hospitality.

"Now," Peter continued, holding up a hand to silence the mutterings of his subjects. "Where have you come from? Tell me of yourself, good my sir."

"King Caspian the Second, if you will." Miraz drawled with his head held high. Edmund noticed the elder of the two boys (Caspian, of course) rolling his eyes.

"Very well, fellow King, where do you hail from?" Everyone seemed to lean forward in his or her seats eager to hear the answer.

"We come from the land of Telmorra, where my esteemed father was King." Miraz paused dramatically. It seemed that he had the gift of telling stories in the way of Calormens. The Tisroc (may he live forever) was often known to speak as such. Peter was quite used to it, especially after the almost engagement between Prince Rabadash and his good sister Susan. So he waited patiently.

"One day, a fine and good day, we set out upon our vessels. By the thousand, we were, four ships total," another roll of Caspian's eyes followed for he knew his father was lying through his teeth. "But we were set upon by our enemies. They sunk two of our ships, but we managed to escape with our lives. It was a horrid and blessed day together when we survived the battle, for while we had our lives we no longer had our homes. We wandered, drifting endlessly, until at last we spotted land. As you know, we moored upon the coast just down below. I have been told this is called Care Parawell."

"Cair Paravel," Peter corrected him and then nodded his head for Miraz to continue.

"My esteemed father died at sea, long before we arrived in these lands." Now that was a lie if there ever was one. Yes, Caspian the First may not have been a sea faring man, and he may have taken ill, but he should have recovered if Caspian the Second had not held a pillow over his face the moment land came into sight. Now, as you may guess, neither of his sons knew the truth of their grandfather's death. "I am now King of our lands, though I admit I have no idea how to return to them."

Something seemed to dawn on Calpian for he suddenly burst from his seat and stared wide-eyed at his father. "Where are we to live? We can't possibly sleep in those tents forever!"

"Of course not," Susan said with a soft smile. "I am sure Peter can spare land for you to build upon, a castle if it pleases you."

"Many thanks." Miraz bowed his head and pulled his son down into the seat again. If one knew Miraz very well they would have been able to tell that his bowing of the head was meant more in a sardonic manner than a gracious one. He had no intention of building on whatever rejected piece of land these barbarians gave him. He would carve his own place into this new world and damn anyone who got into his way.

"You may have some land to the North-East of Beruna," Peter said at last. "I'll have some guards accompany you and show you the area." Cair Paravel was to the East of Beruna, close enough to keep an eye on these foreign visitors but not close enough to be suspicious. The forest and the mountains were to the South, so there would be nowhere to build there. And Aslan's How was to the West and Peter would not stand to have someone build upon it. So that left the North to North-East of Beruna.

Miraz nodded and thanked them, as he would have been expected to. As they left, hours later, after talking of many things, Caspian the Third hid behind a nearby tapestry and kept very still and quiet. His father, brother and guards left but he remained.

Caspian the Second walked briskly back to his ships. Once there, he found those that had been loyal to him, not his father, but him alone and he gathered them together well out of sight of Cair Paravel. "We have been given land at some place called Beruna. We will be shown there tomorrow. We must pretend to build upon that land." The others nodded.

"I trust, my King," for they had all been told to address him as such while in Narnia, "that we are to find someplace more suitable?"

"Yes." He nodded at who had spoken. "You are to lead a scouting party. Ten men, split into two groups. You and a man of your choice will lead them through Narnia and find the best place for me to build my castle upon." The other's bowed and was dismissed. Miraz looked around him, noticed Calpian standing a few feet away so as not to hear anything but to seem interested in his future duties as King; but he did not see Caspian.

Meanwhile Caspian the Third slowly creeped out from behind the tapestry. Without being noticed he made his way to the Thrones. Only Peter remained seated; the others were dancing and eating, laughing and smiling with their friends. Caspian stood beside Peter, but unlike Miraz, Peter did not start or attack him. It seemed as if the Narnians trusted their subjects far more than his father trusted the Telmarines.

"Hello," Caspian whispered in Peter's ear.

The blond smirked. He did not turn his head to see who had spoken, but he couldn't make out the voice so he smiled and repeated the greeting. "Who might you be?"

"Prince Caspian the Third." He said moving back and dropping into a shallow bow before rising again. He smiled at Peter. "And you are High King Peter."

"I am." Peter frowned at him. "Shouldn't you have gone home?"

"I am never going home." The boy smiled wistfully. He was only Peter's age, but Peter had been through so much and he had already grown up once after all. Only three weeks ago – Narnia time – he was a thirty-year-old man. And now he was but fifteen again. "Spain seems so far away now." He muttered.

"So you are from Spain? Lucy was right?"

"We are not royalty, King Peter. I believe my father is just milking this situation for all it is worth. Are enemies as he called them were the Amada. The Spanish authorities."

Peter suddenly realized where he recognized their style of clothing. Storybooks and fairy tales always had Pirates dressed as such. "Sea bandits?" He asked quietly so that no one else would overhear.

"Yes, pirates. But you can call me Prince if you like?" Caspian gave him a rather seductive grin, his hand cocked on one hip as he ran the other through his lovely brown hair. "What can I call you?" He seemed to breath the words rather than speak them, and Peter felt his groin stir.

"Peter will do." He said sternly, trying to control himself. The boy couldn't be more than sixteen: legal yes, moral no.

"Not master, or Sir?" Caspian asked, before giving a soft giggle. "Well, you're no fun at all."

Peter had had many lovers in his time as King, both male and female, but none had the effect on his that Caspian did with just a few words. "Peter," he almost moaned his own name, "will do."

Caspian leaned in close, his lips almost brushing Peter's, for he was a terrible tease. He whispered, "Peter it is," before he pressed their lips together softly and drew back just as the others noticed he was still present.

"Excuse me?" Susan said, hands on her hips.

"Excuse me," Peter mumbled, standing up and fleeing the room. Caspian tried to follow him but Susan took hold of his arm and pulled him towards a different door.

"You should have gone home by now," she scolded him. She was completely unaware of the reason Peter had fled the room. Perhaps she was worried that Caspian had insulted Peter, and Peter left so he did not harm the boy in anger, or maybe she thought Peter feared the King Caspian would think his son compromised or kidnapped by Peter? Though, if Susan knew the truth of the matter, she would say the boy hardly had virtue left to compromise.

"I'll go, I'll go," he said holding his hands out in surrender. "But, do me one favour, fair Queen of Narnia?" Susan nodded, a small frown on her beautiful lips. "Tell Peter," the word sounded like a sin on his lips, Susan noted, "that I'll come back."

She watched him go. He practically skipped down the dirt road that led to the coastline. High above, in one of the towers where Peter slept, the High King himself leant out of the window and watched the young man disappear from view. Shaking himself mentally Peter went back to his room, waited a few moments and then re-joined the party as if something had happened.

But he couldn't forget the softness of Caspian's lips against his own.

Nor did he think he wanted to forget.

**XXX**

Please review? It's a nice thing to do!

See how I rhymed?


	3. Settling In

Hey, I got the 5 reviews I wanted for the last chapter so I'll post a new one. But I want at least 5 for this as well.

Also, do you actually want me to do day-by-day experiences (although I don't believe in including useless bits and pieces just for fleshing out a story) or would you prefer necessary time-jumps? Suggestions, not demands.

**Words: **4,109

**Chapter 3**

**Settling In**

A week seemed to fly past in Narnia. It seemed like no little time at all when one thought about all the years and years that have gone since Narnia first began, and yet in one week so much was begun. Three of High King Peter's men lead a handful of Telmarines, along with the new King Caspian, through the woods towards the River Rush and the Fords of Beruna. Once Caspian – or as we'll call him, Miraz – had made a show of inspecting the land and giving his agreement, they all returned to their respective homes.

Now, once Miraz returned to the two Galleons his people still lived out of, he immediately gave the go ahead for his 'plan' to begin. His plan, which you may not remember so I will repeat it, was for one of his trusted crewmates (whose named happened to be Renalda, but was pretending to be Lord Renalda) to lead two small teams of five men each and begin searching for a suitable place to build his _real_ castle. Miraz was not content to accept the gracious offer of land from Peter. Miraz was the sort of person who was only ever satisfied with a possession if he happened to have stolen it from someone else. His pleasure was only increased by the opportunity to kill the previous owner as well as steal the item.

Lord Renalda, as we'll continue to call him for arguments sake, was actually quite pleased with one area he found. So he sent for King Miraz, and he waited patiently for two days while Miraz thought about whether or not to keep his subject waiting even longer. For Miraz was also one of _that_ type of people. Not at all kind, noble or gracious: all in all, very bad makings for a King.

The land Lord Renalda had decided upon was rather close to Beaversdam; where Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy had first had tea with the Beavers before Edmund ran away and they had to chase him all the way to the White Witch, fifteen years ago.

Beaversdam was a lovely area, and Lord Renalda was obviously a character of good taste for choosing Beaversdam. There was a waterfall close by, and the whoosh-whoosh-ing noises the water made as it soared over the edge put a person in a rather calm mood. A more soothing noise one would be hard pressed to find. The land that would eventually be built upon was actually at the top of the waterfall. The land jutted outward, handing over the edge of the cliff, and once walls and a moat had been created, Miraz should be pleased to have the best-defended castle that ever would be built. Lord Renalda thought the area further in land would be a good place to build the homes for the rest of the people.

After the moat was built, to separate them from the King, Miraz established.

It only took three days for building to commence at Beaversdam. Miraz was very careful to make it appear that the necessary resources that were being 'loaned' to them from King Peter were headed towards Beruna. To be fair, a few bricks and mortar headed where Peter wanted them to go. In fact, that was very lucky for Miraz, because Damne (the guard who had answered the door for the 4th messenger) had gone to investigate the building at Beruna. He had reported that something was being built – but it was being built very slowly, with very few men and it seemed to be smaller than anyone would have considered Miraz to approve of.

Of course, Miraz' _real_ castle was to be enormous and magnificent once fully completed. It would be much quicker to build if he had more servants, but he was too clever to ask Peter for assistance in that respect. For Peter's men were sure to notice that there were next to no Telmarines at Beruna. It was best to keep at a steady yet slow pace, and ensure that he eventually did get his castle completed. At least until he had those children out of the way.

Then he could do as he pleased, as King of Narnia.

Miraz wasn't an easily trusting man. There were a handful of people he truly trusted and even then they could exceed their trustworthiness on occasion. Mostly, he trusted in himself, and in his sons. He trusted the elder son, Caspian, because he knew that Caspian would do whatever his father told him as long as the promise of being King still remained past Miraz' death. He also trusted Caspian not to hurry him along to the afterlife, because Caspian was one of those boys who did not like death as much as a normal boy should. He trusted Calpian, the second son, because the boy wasn't bright enough to do anything untoward without being told by Caspian (and as already mentioned Caspian would be unlikely to plot against anyone let along his own, untrustworthy father).

It was with those notions in mind that Miraz appointed Calpian to oversee the building of Beruna, while he himself headed down to Beaversdam for three days at a time, every two days. Caspian begged to be allowed to remain behind at the Galleons. He had insisted that someone would need to remain behind to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

Unknown, however, were his true intentions, and so Miraz allowed the boy to remain behind. Caspian truly only wanted more opportunities to force his presence upon the High King, (without his own suspicious father nearby).

So it was a full week after the return of the Kings and Queens, and Caspian's first meeting with Peter, and that kiss, that Caspian was free to do as he wished. And he wished for nothing more than to see Peter again. It was growing dark now, the air was beginning to gather a faint chill but Caspian wasn't deterred. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and knotted the loose ends together so they would not catch or wrap around any tree branches. Then he walked silently towards the area of the beach that met the cliff face. One moment he was standing upon sand, then suddenly the sand gave way to rock and Caspian reached up, took a handful of land in each hand and heaved himself up. His foot found purchase on the cliff face beneath him and he pushed up with his feet, reaching for another handful of earth with his hands, climbing higher and higher and never once looking down for fear that he would loose his composure.

He could have walked around the narrow winding path through the forest to the front gates of Cair Paravel but he didn't want to be let in through the front doors and have to see Peter and share him with all of those others. He wanted Peter to himself for mere moments.

He doubted this way would be guarded, after all no one would be foolish enough to climb so steep a cliff without rope at the least. But Caspian was nothing if not determined. So he kept climbing, until he thought he could no longer move for stiffness and tiredness. Fortunately, he had no further to go. As soon as he thought he might as well just let go and fall, because he was too tired to hold on anymore, there was suddenly a stone pillar just within his grasp. He took hold of it and pulled himself up. The last of his strength was used to heave himself over the side of the balcony. He lay, panting upon the floor, for a moment or two. When he had gotten his breath back he looked over the edge of the balcony and paled as he realized how far he had climbed.

He hadn't gone high enough however, as Peter slept in the tower, and he was still two floors below tower level. But it was as close as Caspian could get by climbing the cliff face. He was in fact in Lucy's bedroom; for she was rather fond of balconies and the sunset and large, wide open windows. He took a quick look around, spotted some strange looking glass bottle (which was really a crystal bottle) filled with red-coloured liquid on the nightstand, but he didn't want to take the time to investigate.

He left the room, looking left and right outside of the door before heading towards a flight of stairs that led upwards. He had seen Peter watching him walk away a week ago, so he knew he must go higher than he was, but once he found himself on the correct level he was rather lost. He had come from the opposite direction than from where Peter had been watching him, but the several flights of stairs had thrown his direction off until he was sure he was quite lost. He stood, half hidden in a corner of the hallway as someone opened a door and stepped out.

Caspian gasped as the blond hair became suddenly recognizable. Peter headed into another room, and Caspian was able to glimpse inside quick enough to establish that it was a latrine. So he went into the room Peter had exited.

There was a large sleigh bed in the centre of the room, with a wardrobe to one side and a chest of drawers beside the bed on the other side. The walls were painted in earthy colours, browns and beiges with a touch of rust-red, but Caspian thought it was divine. With a smirk he lay himself down on the bed, his head propped up by the numerous pillows and his hands folded provocatively above his crotch. The smirk only widened when Peter walked back into the room and faltered upon seeing him.

"Wha-?" Peter asked, quite ineloquently.

"Are you not happy to see me," he paused for effect, then leered, "Peter?" Caspian licked his lips; one hand moved higher to rub his stomach lightly but it also had to effect of pushing his tunic up, baring the tanned skin slightly.

Peter felt his mouth go dry, but he refused to allow this child to overcome him. He was almost thirty-one-years-old for Aslan's sake! He should have better control over himself that he seemed to. But, Peter seemed to forget that in body, not mind, he was only fifteen, and all fifteen-year-old boys are rather hormonal. He had nothing to be ashamed of, nor should he feel guilty for desiring Caspian. After all, he was not thirty was he? He was exactly one year _younger_ than Caspian was, in fact.

"What are you doing here?" Peter demanded finally seeming to come to his senses. He stormed into the room; but did not close the door, for that would be improper in England.

"I came to see you." Caspian said, sounding quite innocent. "Did you not miss me?" Peter merely glared at him. "I thought of you quite often, you know. I certainly missed you."

Peter rolled his eyes. He began to tap his foot on the floor impatiently and Caspian finally sat up and looked at him warily.

"How did you get here?"

"Are you mad at me?" He sounded so childlike, so different than the seductive young man he had been moments ago that Peter felt immediately guilty.

"No," the High King said after some silence. "No I'm not mad at you. But how did you get here?"

"I climbed through the window in the room with the balcony." There was a window in Peter's room as well, but it was the length of the wall, floor to ceiling, and had no balcony.

Peter looked at it critically, while Caspian seemed to grow slightly nervous. "Well, I suppose it would be rude of me to throw you back out of the window. I'm afraid you're going to have to use the door on your way home."

"Oh," he exclaimed, jumping from the bed. "But I don't want to go home! I just got here!" His eyes were wide and pleading.

"Someone will be missing you, I'm sure, and I have no wish to be accused of kidnapping you." Peter ignored him for the moment and continued what he was doing before Caspian even arrived. That was, of course, getting dressed up for the evening banquet. They had one every night during the Golden Age, and Peter didn't see why that had to stop just because they were no longer adults.

"Father has gone to inspect the building process, along with my brother." Caspian walked up behind Peter, for Peter was not paying him any attention and was actually looking into his wardrobe trying to find a suitable cloak. "No one will be missing me, I promise." He was standing behind Peter as he spoke, and his breath seemed to waft across the back of the blond's neck. Peter was in fact so startled by Caspian's close proximity that he stumbled forward and nearly fell into his wardrobe. It was only the Telmarine's arms around his waist that steadied him.

Peter turned slowly, ignoring for the moment that Caspian did not let him go. "Fine, but just for supper. Then I will have someone bring you back to your ships." Caspian beamed at him, and Peter was momentarily blinding by the brightness of the boy's smile. It was in that moment that Caspian stole his second kiss.

He drew back quickly, leaving the High King looking dumbstruck. He reached in over Peter's shoulder and drew out a sea green cloak. "This will do well, I think," he held it out as he spoke. Peter put it on, silently. It would be the first time he ever wore it, for he did not find the colour at all attractive. It had been a gift from a visiting princess, and it was much too long for him now as he had been older when he had received it.

They headed down the stairs together, still silent, for Peter did not quite know what to say and Caspian was finally beginning to think he might be pressing his luck. They were met at the door to the dining hall by Peter's siblings; as they always waited for each other outside, so that they may enter together. Susan frowned at the sight of Prince Caspian but she held her tongue. Though Edmund wasn't quite as subtle or less oblivious as his sister.

"I say, Pete, isn't that the horrid cloak what's-her-name got you? By Jove, I don't think you ever wore that in your life! I thought it would have been on the fire by now!" He slapped his brother lightly on the back as he chuckled. Peter shared with him a small smile and avoided looking at Caspian, who looked quite confused.

"Why are you wearing it now Peter?" Asked Lucy, innocently.

"Do none of you think it does him well?" Caspian asked incredulously. He rather thought it brought out the tiny flecks of green in Peter's blue eyes (one had to get very close to see the green). "I thought it did, that's why I chose it."

Susan gave Peter a very hard look at that, her eyes boring into his with a fierce determination to get any secrets to spill from her brother's mouth. "Yes, well," Peter said suddenly flustered, "shall we go in?"

Susan nodded and called over one of the waiting guards. "Will you lead Caspian inside please?"

The guard took Caspian and pulled the boy through the doors. After all, only the Kings and Queens may enter together. The table was long; the full length of the room and anyone was allowed to sit where they pleased, except Peter who always sat at the head of the table. As fate would have it, there was one free seat at the top of the table and Caspian asked the guard if he might sit in it. The guard, not knowing whether the other King or the Queens wanted it, said:

"It is up to you lad, but if you're asked to move, be it on your head alone the fault to lie."

Peter led his siblings into the room, and he nearly groaned as he noticed Caspian beaming from the seat to his left. Damne, the other guard, was sitting to Peter's right and he was throwing Caspian some unpleasant looks.

He hesitantly sat down. The moment his bottom touched the seat Caspian instantly started on a excited commentary about all the fun things he couldn't wait to do now that he was allowed to be off exploring (even though he was meant to be keeping an eye on the other Telmarines and spying on Cair Paravel from the coast). Peter listened with one ear, and eavesdropped on his siblings with the other. They had chosen to sit a few seats down from him, all together, and were now talking in hushed tones about Peter's sea green cloak.

"But he hated it!" Edmund said, arms across his chest as he looked sullenly at Susan.

"I'm not saying he didn't. At the time. But we were grown ups then, maybe he likes it now?"

"I think," Lucy started to say but Edmund butted in.

"It's still horrid, I say. Peter is some brick!"

Susan glared at him, "I think Peter looks rather nice in it." She was only saying that so she could watch Edmund's face darken with anger.

Before he could explode Lucy almost shouted, "The cloak is horrid! Peter hates the cloak!" Then realizing almost everyone was watching her in curiosity or amusement she lowered her voice so even Peter was hard pressed to hear her. "I think Peter likes Caspian."

Edmund looked rather pleased with himself, for that meant Peter didn't like the cloak and Edmund was right; Susan looked like she had been slapped. Sure her brother had taken male and female lovers as an adult but he was fifteen now. The fifteen-year-old Peter she remembered, from before the Wardrobe, hadn't even had a girlfriend. But then, she reminded herself, he had already grown up once, so she supposed they'd all grow up quicker the second time around.

Peter had heard them, and he flushed a dark shade of pink. He tried to hide it though by wiping his face with his napkin, and holding his napkin over his mouth and nose as if he thought her were going to sneeze.

The Narnians were not particularly bothered about what gender you loved, as long as you loved. Love was a fêted emotion and weddings and births were always overly celebrated. Aslan had even been known to gift a male-male couple with a child, if their love was strong enough, once or twice. In fact, Lucy knew two male hedgehogs that had given birth weeks before the children accidentally went through Lantern Waste and back to England weeks ago.

Caspian looked overly curiously, having heard some of the conversation as well. "Why did you not tell me you didn't like the cloak?" His eyebrows furrowed.

"I was a little distracted." Peter was quite put out by having to admit to being flustered back in his rooms. Caspian though suddenly had a smug look upon his face and Peter desperately wanted to punch him, but he didn't, though fortunately Caspian said no more on the subject.

By the time the meal was over and the musicians were all too tired to play and the guests were half asleep on their feet Caspian was face down on the table, snoring lightly. Peter didn't have the heart to wake him so he had his personal guard (Damne) carry Caspian to Peter's tower.

I say Peter's tower, because the tower only had three rooms. One was Peter's bedroom, the other adjoined onto the bedroom and was for the eventual Queen or mistress (or second King if it may be) and the third was a bathroom. Caspian was laid in the spare room, but some time during the night he woke alone and was not impressed. So he snuck into Peter's room. He found he rather liked the way that Peter rolled towards him as he lay down and pulled him flush against the blond's naked chest. Caspian smiled, his head tucked under Peter's chin, and his arms wrapped around Peter's shoulders.

That was how they woke as well. Caspian was rather pleased that he hadn't been thrown from the bed and Peter was rather relieved to find that Caspian was dressed and hadn't attempted to remove Peter's trousers.

Caspian would have been better to go home the night before for Miraz would still have been at Beaversdam. But he had left late that night, and was only just now arriving at the coast. Miraz looked around and found, with great annoyance, that his heir was missing. Many people informed him that his heir had last been seen heading towards Cair Paravel the castle. Though no one dared tell his or her King that Caspian had tried to climb the cliff (and truly no one had the guts to watch and check to see if he fell).

When Caspian arrived back, an hour later, for Lucy insisted he be fed, he was in a pleasant mood. Breakfast had been full of stories of Aslan and the Kings and Queens and poems by the Dryads and dancing with the Fauns, and it was brilliant fun. But now that he was home, his father put a dent in his good mood. Miraz met him with a fierce glare.

"Where were you?" He was so angry he didn't even address Caspian by name, or 'son' or 'boy'.

"At the castle, father," he said with a respectful bow of his head.

"Why?" The word was spat out like poison. Miraz couldn't fathom any reason why someone would want to spend time with those barbarians!

"I wanted to spy upon them, Sir," he lied through his teeth and his heart hurt from the lying. He hoped no one would hear and tell Peter what he was saying for he didn't want Peter to hate him. "I should not trust them, father, so I thought while you were gone if I could make them trust me then I could report back on their doings to you. It was very late when they ate last night, and I drifted off. I apologize but when I woke it was even later and they wouldn't hear of me coming back so late, alone."

Miraz hummed lightly, thinking the statement over. In the end, he merely said, "well, at least one of those barbarians have some semblance of curtsey. Imagine, if they had let you off on your own so late in such a strange place! Why, I'd have gone to war with them at once." Then he turned without even saying 'goodbye' and left Caspian alone.

Caspian looked back, up the cliff, and then towards the woods. The trees, for one moment, didn't look like trees but rather lots and lots of fat, bearded men and thin, willowy young women. Caspian blinked and the trees once more had branches and roots and all the other things that normal trees ought to have. He shook his head, chasing away what he thought were the remains of fanciful dreams (but were really what the spirits of the trees looked like, for if Peter trusted him then they did too, so they were bearing themselves to the Third Caspian). With one more look towards Peter and the wonderful night before, Caspian headed towards his ship, climbed aboard and immersed himself in his studies.

He had intended to sleep, but his tutor was waiting in his room with other ideas in mind. Perhaps, he thought, this was how Peter felt, with me barging in on his plans? Then he realized it couldn't be the same. There were no similarities between the wonderfulness of him, and the boredom that were lessons!

Though he did wish that he had chosen to sleep in a little later, or maybe eat just a little bit more. If only so he could be with Peter that much longer. He took a look at his tutor, a short happy fellow, and frowned. History (his history) was ever so dull. After all, it only consisted of his father, grandfather and the journey to Narnia, which he remembered well enough as it was.

The History of Narnia on the other hand would be far more exciting to learn. But he'd wait until he saw Peter again before asking for another story.

**XXX**

Longer than usual but I couldn't find a good place to end it. Thanks for reading. For every person that won't review, Jadis turns a child to stone (but not Peter, cause he's too cute)!


	4. Interlude I

a href"k155me./" target"blank"img src"img./albums/v475/k155me/BTA.jpg" border"0" alt"Between Two Ages by Aisling"/a

I know it has been absolutely ages, so I'm rather hoping there are people still willing to read this, but I lost the plot a bit for a while. I tend to write out summaries for each of my chapters in advance (because it works better for me than pre-writing chapters) but for some reason, I have a hell of a load of summaries for Narnia after 1,300 years, but none for Narnia-following-chapter-three.

It took a while to get here. But it IS here.

**Words: **3,036

**Chapter 4**

**Interlude I**

Time truly did seem to fly when one was having fun. Or alternatively, time was forced to go by quicker when one was busy and there were various deadlines to meet. There was plenty to get done when one ruled a kingdom, and similarly when one planned to overthrown previous rules and take on the kingdom for themselves, there was a great deal many things that had to be arranged, and sorted out, and concerned with.

The majority for the subsequent two months found Caspian spending as much time as possible with King Peter. The false King Miraz spent quite a number of hours overseeing the construction of his castle at Beaversdam, and his youngest son Calpian spent his days being followed around by suspicious Narnians at Beruna as work on the other castle was slow going, and the Narnians didn't seem to understand why there was barely more than foundations after two and a half months.

Telmorra, as Miraz had decided to name his true castle, was rising quickly. Much quicker than he had first expected. His eyes travelled up the height of the castle, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, and his fingers drummed lightly against the side of his leg. "How much longer?" There was already half a castle built.

"A month or two, my King. No more than three." Lord Drimel bowed low, his moustache twitching as his mouth worked nervously.

"Two." Miraz said quietly. He wouldn't accept anything else. Three months was far too long.

"The building of the towers will commence once the roof is installed, Sire. Then we can furnish the castle. Men are already beginning to cut down trees from the woods. After that, the bridge can be laid, and we still have enough gun powder left upon the ships to blow away the ground surrounding the castle."

"Yes," Miraz said, "I want the land Telmorra stands upon to be distinguished from the land the others must live upon. Let only the bridge connect them."

"It will be much safer, my King." The man said in agreement. "Then all that will be left will be to build homes for your men."

Miraz nodded. He smirked again as he watched one man fall from the scaffolding around the castle and fall over the edge of the waterfall with a scream. "That," he nodded, "and to rid ourselves of the children." He snorted and turned away from the rest of his screaming and crying servants, and began to walk back to where he left his horse. Lord Drimel followed him warily.

_XXX_

"Peter?" A soft voice asked just before a rather pretty face peeked around the edge of the door. The door was already open, as would have been proper in England when not alone in a bedroom, but Lucy was polite enough to wait to be asked to enter.

"Come in, O sister mine." Peter called, his voice light and lyrical. It made Caspian's blood sing.

Lucy walked slowly into the room. Her hands were clasped in front of her chest, and her eyes were wide as they landed on Caspian. He was lying sprawled across Peter's sleigh bed, with his shirt removed and his hair in disarray. While he may have looked debauched to Lucy, the reality of the situation was far less shocking. Peter had merely been trying to convince Caspian to wear some of the Narnian's clothing and had ended up forcefully stripping him. Peter was holding one of his own shirt's in his left hand, and with his right hand he waved Lucy forward.

"You are busy." She said, beginning to turn away.

"No." Peter said at once, a blush covering his face as he realized how it must look. "I wanted to see how he looked in my apparel." He waved the shirt to back up his statement. "Caspian was being a little difficult."

"Oh I am a brick!" Lucy said with a giggle. "Of course, you'd close the door if you were up to anything devilish, wouldn't you Peter?" The blond blushed again, but Caspian let out a delighted chuckle.

"I do like you," he told Lucy with a smile.

"Oh," she cooed, "and I adore you just as much, O good my friend."

"Why do you speak like that? Saying 'O' and then 'my' in the wrong order?" He had asked Peter numerous times before, but all Peter would say was that it was just the way all Narnians spoke.

Lucy said pretty much the same thing. "We all talk this way, dearest Caspian. Even though the Calormens are a little more eloquent," Peter gave a snort of amusement, "they do also speak in a similar fashion. It is just the way things are here."

"It was different in Spain," the boy said softly.

"And different in England." Peter said after a short moment of silence.

"You are from England? You never said."

"You never asked." Lucy said, grinning. "But yes. Only a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve may sit upon the throne of Narnia, so it follows that only a human from our world may rule over all of Narnia. Sometimes I miss home. But then I think of those few minutes where we were unexpectedly thrown back there and my heart clenches in fear."

Peter moved towards her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "We won't go back this time until we are ready." He promised her, his voice stern. "Now, why did you come here?"

"Susan said we are all to ride out to Beruna. She has heard from Damne that the process is going far too slowly, brother mine. She thinks we should be more suspicious of the Telmarines." Her eyes widened as she remembered that Caspian was in the room. "I am sorry! I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's fine. If you suddenly appeared in my home I would be suspicious as well." He said with a smile, trying to calm the girl's frantic apologizes.

"No you wouldn't." Peter said quietly.

"But father would be. I have been told I am too trusting." He grinned at Peter, lying back against the pillows and spreading his legs slightly. Lucy took that as her cue to leave the room. "Am I too trusting, Peter? Am I entirely safe with you?" He gave the High King a soft, shy smile before the corners of his lips stretched higher and he grinned cheekily at his friend.

The months that had passed had also bore witness to some spectacular moments of passion between the two. So far there had been nothing more than kisses but they were nonetheless passionate. Peter still had a slight difficulty when he thought about the age difference between the two, to which Caspian was always fast to point out that Caspian was actually the **older** of the two. It was, understandably, hard for Peter to forget that he was not in his thirties any longer.

Peter walked to Caspian's side, and climbed onto the bed. With a grin splitting his face, he crawled forward, until he was leaning over the bare-chested boy, one arm on either side of Caspian's head. He bent down, brushing his lips over Caspian's and smiled. "You will always be safe with me."

"Ah," Caspian said as he raised a hand to run through Peter's corn-coloured hair. "But is my virtue safe?"

"Virtuous indeed," Peter chuckled in amusement. He had figured the other man must have had some experience, for he was far too flirtatious and upfront with his wants and desires.

"I am not." Caspian said suddenly, as Peter began to pull back. "I'm not experienced. You were the first person I kissed, and I assure you, if I have my way, good King, you'll be the first and last person I make love with." His arms wrapped around Peter's shoulders and he pulled the King down so Peter was lying on top of him, pressing him into the mattress.

"Then you should hope your virtue would not be safe with me, O pretty mine." Peter said when their mouths separated. His eyes were shinning slightly, wide and glossy with unshed tears, as he looked down on his lover. His hand traced the length of Caspian's neck then moved back up of grasp the Telmarine's chin. "You are stunning." He whispered before lowering his mouth to Caspian's again.

Their mouths moulded to one another's, their tongue duelling and their fingers tangled in hair or dug deeply into the flesh of the other's shoulders and back. Caspian moaned, his back arching as he thrust his hips upwards to rub his groin against Peter's. The dark haired male drew away from Peter's mouth with a cry as Peter's hand slipped beneath the waist band of his trousers for the first time. A warm, soft hand closed around his half hard penis and he gave another hoarse cry as Peter gave one experimental tug.

The Telmarine writhed, his mouth open and his legs spread, and Peter watched him in his pleasure. His own cock was hard, but he contented himself with rutting against Caspian's leg. Caspian's other leg was wrapped around Peter's waist and his arms drew Peter's head down for another kiss. Peter pulled away with a moan, as Caspian's leg drew up and pressed tightly against his clothed erection. His hand clenched around Caspian's cock in return.

His face was pressed against the dark-haired boy's neck, and he panted along with Caspian as the elder boy groaned and writhed and achieved his pleasure with a loud cry of the King's name. Peter pulled his hand free of Caspian's trousers and, when Caspian's eyes were on him, he brought his fingers to his lips and licked away all traces of the Telmarine's pleasure. Caspian moaned at the sight, but he was physically unable to do much more than watch at this point.

Peter rose from the bed, his cock throbbing in his own trousers, but he said nothing. "You will have to wear some of my trousers."

"I should start leaving clothing here," Caspian said.

Peter shot him a searching look, trying to decide if the boy was serious or not. "If you wish." His words were met with a blinding grin. Peter left the room and headed to his bathroom. When the door was closed, he pulled down his trousers and wrapped one hand around his erection. His head was thrown back, leaning on the wall behind him, while his legs were splayed and bent at the knee. His hand worked on himself furiously, not stopping even as the door opened and his eyes landed on Caspian.

Worried not, was Peter, that either of his siblings would see him in this state. They all had their own bathrooms and their own rooms and they knew better than to walk in uninvited on Peter, or Edmund, or Susan, or Lucy while they were seeking privacy.

Caspian licked his lips softly, wetting them, before moving to kneel in front of Peter. Hesitantly he reached out to wrap one hand around the base of Peter's erection.

"You don't have to." The blond panted, his hand stopping its movements.

"I want to please you, in whichever way I can." A blush spread across his cheeks, as he bowed his head. His tongue flicked out to trace over the head of the penis in front of him. Peter's legs quivered in anticipation. "On my back, on my front, on my knees," he whispered, his eyes hooded as he looked up at Peter's face before opening his mouth and taking the other man in to the root.

When Peter reached his orgasm, Caspian was erect and palming himself through his trousers. They came together this time. As Peter screamed, "Caspian!", the Telmarine moaned, his mouth full of Peter's cock and seed, and he willingly swallowed every drop offered to him.

Caspian was forced to change his trousers again, after soiling the second pair. Peter watched him dress with a fond smile, and pulled on the sea-green cloak that Caspian was fond of. He still didn't particularly like the cloak, but he did like Caspian. The Telmarine smiled at him, as hand in hand, they left Peter's tower and descended into Cair Paravel to find the other King and Queens.

_XXX_

They were met in the throne room with wide smiles and cheering. Caspian was uncharacteristically bashful as Fauns and Nymphs and the like approached him to offer congratulations. Peter took it all in stride, nodding and accepting the good wishes with thanks of his own. He had taken many lovers during the Golden Age, and with each one the Talking Beasts and the other Magical Creatures of Narnia acted as if he were finally choosing a bride and co-ruler. With each one he merely smiled, agreed and bedded his lover until they grew apart.

With Caspian though, Peter thought as he watched the Telmarine out of the corner of his eyes, it could be much more.

It would also be good for Narnia, of course. If you have already thought of this then I commend you and your wisdom. But of course, if High King Peter were to marry the Telmarine Prince then there would be a Telmarine on the throne, and the people of Telmar would feel much more secure about their lives here in Narnia. Now, it wouldn't appease Miraz, for he wanted to be King all by himself, but it would keep the others happy. The Telmarine's were fond of their Prince, for he was kind and fair and not as cruel as Miraz, and they would be happy to follow Caspian the Third. Even if it would mean following the Narnian barbarians as well.

Peter wasn't much thinking about marriage at the moment; after all he was only fifteen again. Instead he made his way to his siblings, while Caspian was still being congratulated. "You told them?" He asked Lucy.

She smiled bashfully. "Not really, Peter," she said whiningly. "I was speaking to Susan about you both, and she said that Caspian liked you and that was why he flirted so often with you. Edmund said you must like Caspian as well, for you allowed him to flirt."

"And you are still wearing that horrid green cloak," Edmund said, butting in.

"So," Lucy continued, "I wondered out loud how it would be if you and Caspian fell in love, O brother mine, and some of the Goblins overheard. There was a minor argument between them, for I fear they don't seem to like the Telmarines much, and that meant that the Fauns overheard and they told the Dryads and Shallowpad the Raven heard and he told Orieus, and then the Centaurs knew all about it, and by then it was too late to tell people it wasn't true because everyone thought it was."

"Is it true?" Edmund asked, still eyeing the cloak distastefully.

"Yes." Peter said shortly, and Edmund merely shrugged his shoulders and let it pass. He didn't mind either way if Peter wanted one gender over another as long as his brother was happy and remained his brother. He loved Peter, and he wanted to love anyone Peter loved, but that didn't mean Caspian would be accepted with open arms. He knew, just as Lucy did and Peter suspected, that Susan was wary of all and any of the Telmarines. That included Caspian. She was always to one to insist he leave Cair Paravel before they retired to bed, or if he did sleep the night, she would make sure he was escorted back to the shore early the next morning. She seemed to believe he was a spy of some kind.

"This is all well and good," Susan said firmly, her hands on her hips. "But we'll be late for the inspection."

"Do tell," Peter said. He straightened his mail and his tunic and picked up his crown from where it rested on his throne and placed it on his head.

Susan settled it for him, so that it was lying on his head straight. "I have heard rumours that there is building work going on further north. I wanted to make sure that this home in Beruna was actually being built and it wasn't just a waste of time so Caspian the Second can plot something against us."

"Susan!"

"What Peter? You know very well some people can't be trusted. Edmund learnt that from the White Witch. She was from another land, and she came here and nearly killed Narnia. We can't let that happen again."

"Caspian isn't from another world. He is from our world. The same world as us, Su, and we rule just fine." Edmund said softly, flinching at the reminder of his betrayal.

She sniffled. "There is something about him that I don't trust. Something his son doesn't have." She looked towards Caspian as she spoke. He was surrounded by Goblins who were poking his legs with hilts of their swords, and all of them were talking in quick succession so Caspian didn't have a hope of answering anything they asked him. He shrugged his shoulders at Peter, when he noticed the siblings watching, and Peter gave him a soft smile in return. "I still don't trust him though. Just because he isn't in on the plot doesn't mean that his father isn't manipulating him!"

"Very well, Susan." Peter said as he rubbed his chin in thought. "I suppose it is high time we did some routine inspections. It might be necessary to pass through Beruna, after all. There will be nothing to do about that, which might be unfortunate for our visiting King, but that's that." Peter nodded to himself as his siblings grinned.

None of them were naive enough to just appear and announce their suspicions for Miraz to become more secretive in return. So they would do what they always did when there was a possibly uprising suspected. They would inspect all of Narnia, and eventually they would find out the hiding places of traitors and the secrets that were hoped to keep hidden.

Hopefully it would work as well now, as it had in the past.

**XXX**

Enjoy? Let me know. How long does it take to build a castle, lol?

People seemed to have stopped liking The Lambs (3 reviews? That sucks).


	5. The Inspection

Oh, shall I compare me to a summer's day? I am more lovely, but too much of a slacker! Sorry this has taken so long, but if it makes any one feel better, I've been neglecting all of my fandoms! Uni is kicking my arse, but the exam I was meant to have Monday coming was post poned to the following week, so no harm, no foul if I work on fiction instead, right?

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**Words: **2,726

**Chapter 5**

**The Inspection**

Caspian had begged to come with them. He had fallen to his knees with his hands clasped before his chest and pleaded with Peter to allow him to go. Peter had held fast, agreeing with his siblings that Caspian should not be allowed to join them because he was not a King or Queen of Narnia. Follow protocol must be followed, they had said, and Peter had to agree because they were right. In every one of their other inspections it was just the four of them, Oreius, Fledge, and a few trusted others. Never before had they brought a member of the group they were inspecting with them. But Caspian refused to be left behind. He simply refused to lose out on time that could be spent with Peter.

"I will not remain behind, I will not!" The Telmarine said, his voice cold and his face blank.

Peter's hand moved forward, cupping Caspian's cheek in a light grip. Caspian turned his face away. Peter's fingers tightened on the other boy's face, turning his head so that they were eye-to-eye. "I would like nothing more than to remain with you, but I cannot. Since I must go, I wish you could come with me, but you cannot. I cannot change how things are done simply for you, Caspian."

"Why? Are you not High King?" Caspian said sullenly. He moved back, jerking his face out of Peter's grip and moving out of the other man's reach.

"I am," Peter agreed. "But being King is more about what other people need, doing what makes ordinary people happy, than pleasing those close to you. I am sorry, Caspian." Blue eyes softened as they met sad brown eyes.

"I don't like it when I'm away from you." Caspian whispered. He stepped forward, his arms winding around Peter's neck. A hand pulled Peter's head down, and Caspian rose on to the balls of his feet, rising up to press his lips against the other man's. "You will come back?"

"Of course." Peter promised, before moving back to capture Caspian's lips again. "Go now I must, my love, or I will never be gone."

"Good," the Telmarine murmured, his arms sliding down to cup Peter's waist. "Never go away from me."

"I will always return, but I cannot promise never to leave. Duty and honour and kingship call me away." Peter broke away, moving back to stand before the mirror in his room. He carded his fingers through his hair, flattening it. He grabbed a cloak off the edge of his bed and threw it around his shoulders. "Until I return."

He walked out of the door, and Caspian watched him go in silence. The Telmarine moved to the window, leaning out over the edge slightly as he watched, waiting for Peter and his siblings to come into view. His eyes followed them as they disappeared along the path, and kept going, each of them on horseback, with Peter and Falde in the lead.

"I love you," Caspian whispered into the quiet room. No one heard him, and outside, Peter didn't look back.

_XXX_

They rode for what felt, to Peter, like weeks. In fact, they had only been on the move for two days, but as far as the High King was concerned, they had been away from Caspian for too long the moment they left home. It was strange, he thought, how attached he had become to the other man in only months. He had had lovers for years at a time before, and his heart had never clenched so horribly then as it did now. He wondered if perhaps the Narnians were right? The rumours circulating at present were that Peter planned to marry Caspian: maybe there was some truth to those rumours that the Narnians had noticed but Peter was still ignorant of?

Blue eyes narrowed in thought, his mind awhirl with images of Caspian in white, with a crown upon his head, standing beside Peter and the four – no, five – thrones at Cair Paravel. It was a lovely thought, and lost in the image as he was, Peter didn't notice the three arrows that whizzed towards him from out of the trees.

The forest was deathly still, too still, but no one had paid it any mind. It had been so long since their enemies had been within Narnia. Fighting at the boarders, maybe, but this close to the heart of their home? Not since the White Witch! Edmund was the first to realize that they had been foolish and unprepared. He threw himself off of his horse, and tackled Peter from Falde's back. The horse dived to the ground, a curse on its lips and its tail flicked angrily. The Talking Beast gave a loud neigh and sprung to its feet, stomping angrily at the ground as it hovered protectively in front of Peter.

The blond was on the ground, beneath Edmund, and he pushed his brother away and rolled to his knees. A pained gasp escaped him, and one hand covered his mouth to muffle a soft cry as the other hand probed at the arrow that stuck out from his stomach. The other two arrows had missed him.

"Shit! Peter!" Lucy hissed, looking over from where her and Susan were hidden behind an over turned tree.

"Language," he heard Susan scold and allowed himself a small laugh.

"Peter, stay down," the Talking Horse said. He looked worriedly down at his human, black eyes blinking and tongue lolling. "We'll take care of this. Phillip," he called and Edmund's horse trotted forward.

Susan began firing arrows into the trees and, after seven arrows, three cries of pain echoed back to them. Edmund charged forward, flanked by both of the boys' horses and the horses the girls had ridden on stayed in front of Peter. He clutched his sword with one hand, the other tugging the arrow from his gut. Lucy appeared beside him, her brow furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Did you bring the cordial?"

"No, I didn't think we would need it, Peter. O brother mine, do not leave us?" She whimpered as Peter raised him self up slowly to draw her into a hug.

"I shall not, Lu. I shall be fine." His breath came laboured but he fought back his fear. He had had worse than this in his fifteen years in Narnia. This would not be the end of him.

They had already seen Beruna for themselves, and Peter agreed with Susan: something was wrong with the castle being built there. It was too small, not as splendid as Miraz probably would have preferred. There was something strange going on and this attack proved it. Ten men had followed the Kings and Queens from Beruna. Three were killed by Susan's first volley of arrows, two more by her next attack. The horses, one for Phillip and one for Falde who kicked both men's heads in, killed two. Edmund stabbed the eight with his sword, and took the head off of the ninth without a pause. When there was one man left, Edmund dragged him back towards his family.

"Look what I found, O good my King." Edmund pushed the Telmarine, and he fell to his knees with a cry. Edmund held the sword at the back of his neck. "What shall I do with him?"

"Bring him with us," Susan said as she stood and brushed down her dress. She replaced the bow and arrows into her quiver and mounted her horse. Lucy followed her lead. Both of their gazes were fixed on Peter, who despite hardly being able to move was also trying to get back onto Falde's back. The horse was almost lying on the floor, trying to make it easier for the High King.

"He can wait," Edmund agreed. He hurriedly tried their attacker's hands, and threw him over Phillip with a scowl. "You ok, Pete?" He asked softly.

Finally, seated on the back of the white stallion, the High King nodded. "I shall be, after a long bath and some ale."

"You're too young to drink, Peter," Susan huffed, "honestly, think of the example you are setting!"

"I'm thirty-one-years old!" The blond huffed. His arms were wrapped around his waist, holding his wound, and Falde led them through the forest and back towards the castle at the coast because Peter was barely able to keep himself awake though he would not admit it. Arguing with his sister helped keep his focus off of the pain. "I'm bloody well old enough to drink."

"Language!"

"And I'm old enough to curse as well," the King grinned back at her. Unfortunately, turning in his saddle was not a good idea for someone with a stab wound. Pain coursed up his spine and Peter gasped shallowly, his eyes fluttering closed as a wall of black swept towards him. Susan rode directly beside him the rest of the way, making sure Peter didn't tumble from the horse. For a day and a half they travelled without stopping, desperate to get Peter home to Lucy's cordial before it was too late.

_XXX_

Caspian paced Peter's bedroom for the first two days, only leaving to use the facilities or to find food. On the third day, even as Peter was returning, he went back to his ships and sighed in annoyance as his tutor tried to teach him more pointless history that he had already lived through. All the while, his eyes drifted to the portcullis of the Galleon, through which he could barely glimpse Peter's bedroom window. He didn't know why he kept staring at the wall, even on the fourth day since Peter left, because surely he would see them on the winding road well before he would see Peter staring down at him through an open window.

It was, in fact, later on during that fourth day that Caspian heard the trumpets sounding. They were announcing the return of Narnia's Kings and Queens. Caspian sat up straight, excited beyond measure, but determined to keep him under control. It was only when the trumpet abruptly grew silent that Caspian realized there was something wrong. If he squinted, he could make out the pure white horse that Peter usually rode upon, but he could not see anyone on its back. But it looked like – no, it couldn't be – why would?

Edmund was carrying Peter inside Cair Paravel.

All of a sudden Caspian's heart skipped two beats, his breath caught and he felt like he was underwater. His lungs strained for air, and when someone asked if he were well their voice sounded far away and strange. "Father will want to know what is wrong," he said at last, his voice strained and desperate and nothing like his own.

He stood, ignoring the food on the plate before him, and giving no thought to the rumours his people might spread, he ran towards the Cliffside. He began to run up the road, jumping over sticks and stones and panting horribly by the time he was half way up. Tears of frustration wetted his eyes, and he feared something horrible would happen to Peter in the time it took Caspian to reach the doors of the castle. Just as he was about to give up, a cry bubbling in his throat, Falde appeared before him.

The horse came as if out of a dream. Caspian looked ahead of him and the way was clear. He looked at the ground, trying to catch his breath and suddenly the animal was there, in his path.

"You won't stop me," Caspian snarled, terror fuelling his words.

"I wish to help you, climb on my back, Telmarine." Caspian froze, not sure whether to believe the words he was hearing. "High King Peter will rest better if you are beside him. Come, we do not have long."

"Is he dying?" Caspian asked in a small voice, even as he heaved himself onto the horse.

"No. He is quite healed, but he will wake soon. I had hoped to have you there when he remembered himself." The horse wouldn't speak again, no matter how much Caspian begged it for answers. In the end, Caspian just held tight to the reigns and trusted the Talking Beast to take him home.

_XXX_

When Peter awoke it was to find brown eyes staring down at him, tears dripping from dark eyelashes. "Have you stopped weeping, o beautiful stranger?" Peter asked with a faint smile. His eyes sparkled as Caspian started at his words. "Hast thou no tear? - Weep now or never more! See! On yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love,"**1** his voice was soft as he spoke, quoting something, though Caspian did not know what.

"You scared me." Caspian said at length, his voice held a reproachful tone.

Peter sat up in the bed. His hand reached for Caspian's and the Telmarine gave it willingly. Peter pressed a kiss to Caspian's knuckles and whispered against them, his eyes never leaving Caspian's, "but I returned to you."

"Like you promised." Caspian crawled onto the bed beside the King. His movements were careful, gentle, as if afraid to hurt the blond man.

"Like I promised." Peter repeated, his eyes travelling along Caspian's bare chest. "Was there no need to dress?"

"You lost some blood. You've been asleep for a day, and I saw no need to dress, your majesty, when no one would see me but your bedroom walls." Caspian gave him a sly smile and unbuttoned his trousers, kicking them to the floor.

"You have no shame." Peter laughed. He pulled his pyjama shirt above his head and dropped it to the ground.

"I didn't even see the wound. It healed so fast." Caspian's fingers hovered above the spot Peter had been shot, his fingers hesitantly brushing against the healed skin and pulling back as if burnt.

"You will not hurt me. Lucy's cordial heals extremely well." Peter promised, before pulling his lover down for a kiss. Somehow, during the kiss, Peter's trousers joined Caspian's on the ground. In a matter of moments Caspian found himself pinned beneath the High King, though he was not complaining much.

"You were injured!"

"And now I am not. Though if you refuse me, my pride would be severely hurt." Peter gazed down at the dark haired man, a soft smile on his face.

"I would never refuse you," Caspian breathed, spreading his legs wide in invitation. "I love you," he whispered as Peter's fingers moved down to touch his entrance.

Peter met his gaze fully; his eyes sparkled warmly as he leant down to brush his lips to Caspian's. "And I realized while I was gone, that I love you more than I've loved anyone else. It sort of scares me."

"Don't be scared of me." Caspian let out a moan soon after speaking. Peter's fingers worked him, using spit as lubricant but Caspian did not mind as long as Peter continued to stroke that spot inside of him – right there – that was making him see stars.

"Not of you, but of what could happen to you." Peter's fingers left him, and Caspian gave a disappointed groan. Something else was pushing against him now, and his first reaction was to tense and fight back, but he looked up at Peter, heard Peter whispering 'I love you' and relaxed completely. A grunt escaped him as Peter pushed past inside of him, stilling to let Caspian adjust before pulling back and rocking forward again.

As the pleasure rushed through him and over him, and downed him beneath their currents, Caspian threw his head back and screamed as jolt upon jolt of pleasure seared his body from the inside out. He came hard, Peter's hand clenching around his shaft and he felt something warm inside of him, just before Peter collapsed beside him with a grunt.

"Nothing will happen to me," Caspian said when he had control over himself. "You are here." He said it with such conviction that Peter was stunned speechless. Naked and sticky, the High King dragged Caspian against his side and buried his face into the dark hair. "I love you, Peter." He breathed sleepily.

"And you, o forever mine." The King replied, just as they both drifted off to sleep.

**XXX**

**1** – "Lenore" by Edgar Allen Poe.

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Thanks for reading. If you've come this far it would be cricket to review!

I'm thinking of doing a Peter/Edmund one shot, if I ever find time to work on it. Opinions?


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